With and Without You
by Mad Furry Cheshire Cat
Summary: When Warren's wings grow as a child, he has his best friend Hannah there to support him, but one day she is no longer there to give him the support he needs. How will he cope? And will they meet again? AngelOFC pairing! Please R & R!
1. Chapter I

_CHAPTER I_

Warren's POV

I'd just got in from school and really needed a drink. Coach had pushed us hard that day out on the track. But…it was Friday! And my best friend was coming to sleep over for the weekend. She was just the greatest; we'd sit up half the night giggling away to ourselves as though no one else mattered, and when she was around, nothing did matter.

The cold juice ran down my throat as beads of sweat dripped down my red cheeks. Then the front door slammed.

"Anyone home?" my dad's voice came as he trailed through into the large kitchen where I was standing. His arms were filled with files and papers. Looks like we weren't going swimming after all.

"Got a packed weekend again, Dad?" I asked him, feeling so irritated that work came first yet again. Just one weekend with my friend where I wanted us to go out somewhere, not be stuck in the house all day like hermits. I mean, I saw her a lot as it was anyway. Most weeks her mom would invite me around for dinner. I just hated the fact we went to different schools. Me and Hannah had met only last year when dad took me into his office and one of his new staff happened to be Hannah's dad. And guess who was sat beside him?

"Looks like it, son," Dad replied, dropping his pile onto the large kitchen table, nearly knocking mom's new crystal vase over.

"Okay," I sighed and walked down the hall towards the stairs. My cat, Snowball, came racing down the stairs suddenly. "Stupid cat!" I wailed as he knocked into my legs. Why did I call a black cat Snowball? I had a tendency of doing that, calling pets and people the most obscure names which usually meant the opposite of some attribution about them. Dad always said I had a quick wit for a twelve year old.

Carrying my book bag, I ascended the stairs slowly, keeping my head low. Why did Dad ALWAYS have to work? He was the boss, surely he could just get some of his staff to take care of things while he was taking me and Hannah swimming. He always did this _every_ weekend when he'd planned to do something with me. Half the time, mom ended up taking me out grocery shopping. "I remember when you were little and you'd sit in the seat in the trolley," she'd always tell me, ruffling my curly hair as though I was still five.

My room was exactly how I'd left it that morning; the small fold down bed was in the corner especially for Hannah. I'd been so excited about her coming over that I'd dragged it out the cupboard as soon as I woke up. We only got to do stuff like this maybe once a month and see each other for dinner once a week. We'd usually laugh on the phone though for hours and send e-mails to one another.

XxxxxxxX

Mom got home around six that night after going to visit one of her old college friends she'd known for years.

"How was school, sweetheart?" she asked me as I sat on one of the tall chairs at the kitchen counter, watching her cook our dinner which consisted of roast chicken.

"It was okay," I replied irritably as I kept watching the fingers on the clock. Hannah would be here at seven, so I had about twenty minutes left of pure boredom.

"Just okay?" Mom asked again, dragging the chicken out the oven and putting on some special glaze. I never knew what she put on our food sometimes, but it sure smelled and tasted delicious. "Why does your father never put this in when I ask him to?" she suddenly asked, sighing. "It's going to take at least another hour to cook through."

"I'm glad I'm not going to get married anytime soon," I told her, giggling, but at the same time actually meaning it. The only person I'd ever consider marrying was Hannah. We'd even promised each other at one point that we'd _only _marry each other. All the girls in my classes at school weren't at all like her, for one they didn't have that English accent which I loved. I'd never known anyone from England before meeting her and at first I found it funny listening to her talk. Even the way she said my name was amusing.

"Do you want to start laying the table, Warren?" Mom asked, pulling another tray out of the oven which was full of roast potatoes. Oh man, my stomach was really grumbling now for some of Mom's good home-cooked food.

I took out all the cutlery from the kitchen draw and took it over to the table, putting a set out on each place mat. Just as I lay out the last set, the doorbell rung. "I'll get it!" I shouted and raced through into the long hallway, almost skidding over on the tiles.

"Hey," I said, gasping for breath as I opened the door and saw Hannah and her dad standing by the door. I could feel myself blushing.

"Hiya," she said, smiling and put her arms around me quickly. "I've missed you."

"Do you want to come in for a drink?" Dad asked Hannah's dad.

"Yeah, okay," her dad replied and came inside.

Me and Hannah soon hit the stairs and ran off up them, taking her bag of clothes up with us. I suddenly noticed an itch on my back. "Hey, can you scratch my back for me?" I asked Hannah as she dropped her bag on the guest bed.

"Okay," she said happily in that usual tone of hers and stood behind me, raking my back. The itching was really intense and seemed to get stronger the more she scratched.

"Can you do it harder?" I asked, wriggling around. It was deep in my shoulder blades now. Her nails dug hard through my sweater, grinding into my skin.

"I don't want to hurt you," she said, stopping.

"Don't worry. You won't," I reassured her and closed my eyes, revelling in the scratching.

XxxxxxxX

Even over dinner, my back was still murder, itching away. I began grinding my back up against the seat. Dad soon cut me a pair of eyes across the table, signalling for me to stop.

"What's the matter, honey?" Mom asked, dropping her fork and rubbing my arm. Hannah kept silent and just watched me, smiling weakly.

"My back is itching, that's all," I said simply, trying to fight away that constant nuisance which just would not die down.

"Have you changed laundry powder?" Dad suggested, still eating away. "That tends to bring people out in rashes."

"Come here, honey. Let me take a look," Mom told me, standing up from the table and pulling up my sweater. I blushed hard as I noticed Hannah watching and looking at my bare chest. I could have died. I know I was twelve, but I could still get embarrassed around girls. Mom seemed to think that the embarrassment only starts when you're a teenager, and anyway, I was two months off being thirteen. I felt Mom dig her fingers into my back, pressing.

"Mom, don't. Please," I begged, pulling away.

"Well, I can't see anything. Why don't you take your sweater off and get some air to yourself," Mom suggested.

"I'll be okay," I grimaced, both at her suggestion and the intense itching which was still making my whole back feel like it was on fire.

"Warren, stop being sulky and just do what your mother tells you," Dad snapped across the table at me.

XxxxxxxX

After dinner, I went to my room with Hannah where we put on my PlayStation, but my back was still itching. It wasn't quite as bad as it had been earlier, but it was still pretty rough. We played a few games for a while, being a little more silent than usual. I don't know why by Hannah seemed different tonight. Something seemed wrong with her and it was really bothering me.

"Are you okay?" I asked her, putting my controller down on the carpet and facing her, cross legged. She just looked back at me, smiling and then putting her head down.

"I'm fine," she replied, but I knew she wasn't. As if her answer sparked something, I felt a throb suddenly fill my upper back. I groaned loudly, falling over onto the carpet.

"Warren, are you alright?" I heard her call, her voice growing more blurry.

The pain grew intense, extremely intense, slowly spreading throughout my entire back, but it was worst in my shoulder blades. It literally felt like something was trying to force its way out of me.

"I'll get your mom," she said again, getting up.

"No! Please, just stay with me," I begged her, grabbing her arm tightly. "Don't go." I didn't want anyone, just her. If something was happening to me, I didn't want Mom or Dad. They'd just want to drag me up to the hospital and I really didn't want that. I curled into a ball and felt tears spill down my cheeks as the pain grew hotter.

Hannah got to her knees and pulled up my sweater, gasping suddenly. "Oh my God. What's wrong?" I snapped. I knew something was bad and my insides curled, tightening suddenly and making me feel like puking.

"There's lumps on your back. Two big ones," she cried out. "We really should get your mom."

"Please, no!" I shouted again. "Help me up." I needed to see what she was on about. Lumps? What the hell was happening to me? I cried harder as she pulled me up, the pain soaring straight through my body, making me buckle at the knees. But she held me up tightly. Even though she was a year younger than me and was a girl, she was pretty strong.

To coin the phrase 'Mirrors never lie' was an understatement. Big fat tears dripped down my cheeks quicker as I looked into the bathroom mirror, horrified at what I saw. It was literally like something out of a horror movie. There on my shoulder blades were two huge, ugly, red lumps. Hannah just stared at me, her green eyes wide in shock.

"Don't tell anyone about this. Please!" I said, crying harder, catching hold of her shoulders. "Please. I don't want to go to hospital and have an operation, I just want to be normal…," I kept on.

"I won't, I promise," she told me, putting her arm around my neck and hugging me. "You're my best friend and that's what friends do. Ugh…oh…" she said suddenly, pulling her arm from around me quickly.

"What? What is it?" I asked frantically, turning around and viewing my back in the mirror. There, bright red, was blood dripping from the lumps. Small puncture wounds had formed as the lumps seemed to break the skin.

"Hang on a minute," she told me and raced to the medical cabinet in the corner of our large bathroom. Her hands moved about quickly, pushing bottles aside as she shoved everything on the floor. "Here, I'll put this on." She was holding a large roll of bandages in her hand.

"What you gonna do with that?" I asked, sweating like a pig. I knew full well what she was going to do with it, not like she was going to stuff it in my mouth or something to gag me.

"Put it around your shoulders. Stop the pressure," she explained. This was the girl who wanted more than anything to be a Veterinarian. That meant she'd be putting bandages on cats and dogs all day. "Hold up your arms."

I listened to her and followed her instruction, trusting her. I felt the warm bandage wrap around the top of my back and chest. "Is this gonna work?" I asked naively.

"I don't know, but we'll soon find out."

XxxxxxxX

The pain was still sharp as I lay in bed, resting on my stomach. Hannah glanced at me from the corner of the room. I sure loved her sometimes. Out of all the friends I had, she was the only one I could trust with my deepest secrets. No one else could compare to her.

"Hey," she whispered over to me. "If you need anything in the night, just wake me up. Kay?"

I smiled to myself, appreciating her all the more. "Yeah, thanks."

Lights were always out at ten and it annoyed me because even on weekends, and, like now, when Hannah was round, I couldn't stay up. "It's for you own good, honey," Mom would say. "You need your rest." What crap! Most of the time I kept a flashlight under my pillow so I could read my comics under the covers. Then I'd wind up dreaming about Superman, wondering what it'd be like to fly and be a superhero. That life must have been the best. No school, no homework, just flying around all day kicking bad guy's asses and having everyone love you for it. That was the life I yearned for.


	2. Chapter II

A/N: Some of the dialogue is a little childish because obviously Hannah is only eleven years of age, but I've tried to make the narrative a little more adult in some ways.

_CHAPTER II_

Hannah's POV

I hated sitting in, watching the rain smash against the glass and being without Warren, knowing how bad he had things at the moment. My best friend was growing wings! How? Why? I couldn't understand it. We'd been hearing a lot about these 'mutant' people on the news, so we'd both come to the conclusion that that was what it was. Those lumps which had started growing when I stayed over two weeks ago had gradually started growing feathers on them!

I put my hand to my chin and watched lightning flash through the heavy air. My dad walked behind me and placed his hand on my shoulder. "I wish we could go out, but the weather's terrible today," he told me. Mom was upstairs sleeping as she worked nights at the local home for old people. Dad was the one who took me out a lot.

"Can I call Warren?" I asked, looking up at him, giving him my usual begging look. "Just for five minutes."

"Okay, just five," he told me sternly. I grinned broadly and ran over to the phone, grabbing it quickly and dialling his number which I'd memorised. It rung, and so I waited.

"Hello?" a lady's voice came. It was obviously Warren's mom.

"Um, hello, Mrs. Worthington, can I speak to Warren, please?" I asked, using all the polite manners my parents had blessed me with over the years.

"Of course, honey. Hang on a moment," she replied sweetly. I just waited, tapping my foot impatiently against the cupboard door in the kitchen.

"Hello?" Warren's distinct voice came down the phone.

"Hiya, I just wanted to see how you are. I've been worried about you," I asked, keeping my voice low so Dad couldn't hear our conversation.

"I've been okay. Just bored; I so wish you could come over or something," he told me. I just smiled, feeling my cheeks grow hot.

"How are your…erm, wings?" I asked again, letting my voice get quieter as I uttered that single word, _wings_. It seemed so weird asking that, but at the same time so cool. My friend had wings. That was just incredibly wonderful. I was getting kind of jealous by now. I'd always loved fairies and wanted wings myself. Just to hit the sky and be free from everything. It was every kid's dream. But since that sleepover, Warren hadn't been the same. He was always so happy and bright, but nowadays he was always sulky and depressed.

"I dunno," he sighed. "Can you ask your dad if he can bring you over? I really want to speak to you in person about this. Mom's lurking about and I don't want her to hear it."

"I really don't know. My mom's in bed and it's really horrible outside."

"Please, just ask him. I'll even get _my_ dad to pick you up."

I just sighed and put the phone down, craning my neck around to find Dad who had since walked off into another room. I ran through into the living room, finding him reading the paper. "Dad, can I go to see Warren please?"

"Not today," Dad said absently, not even looking at me.

"Oh, Dad, please. Warren's down and he even said he'll get his dad to pick me up," I continued.

Dad sighed and tossed his paper aside. "Even when I say no, you just keep on," he snapped. "I'll take you."

XxxxxxX

I felt so bad in the car and just hung my head as Dad drove down the wet streets, the window wipers thrashing back and forth across the window. But Warren needed me and I wasn't about to stop caring about him just because Dad wouldn't drive me to his house. I'd have run along in the rain if I'd have had to. There on the corner, I saw Warren's house. It was huge, so much bigger than my house. Even their bathroom was big and my own bedroom would have easily fit inside.

Then I saw the door open and Warren waited on the doorstep. As soon as the car stopped, I opened the door and run out through the rain, racing up the long drive to Warren. Together we just ran inside, straight past Mr. and Mrs. Worthington, and off up the stairs. I distinctly heard Mr. Worthington's chuckle as we run off towards the bathroom.

Warren run in front, slamming the door behind me as I made it in. Then he turned back around, staring at me for a couple of seconds, before lifting up his T-shirt and showing me his wings. I heard him sigh loudly and groan. But they were so big! The last time I'd seen Warren was a week ago and already the wings had grown halfway down his back and little feathers were sticking out. They didn't look like proper wings because they were still pink mostly, like another set of arms growing out of his back, but we knew they _were _wings because of the feathers.

"What do I do?" he asked, lowering his head helplessly and it was then I just felt so hurt and almost ashamed. My best friend was growing wings and he was having to do it alone. I knew that I didn't want the pain, but I just didn't like standing there and watching. I couldn't do anything.

"I don't know," I replied, feeling so sorry for him and lost. Then he began to cry again. "I'm sorry, Warren," I whispered to him, watching tears fall down his cheeks.

"Why did it have to happen to me? Why? I don't understand it," he wept, hugging me tightly. I placed my arms around him carefully, not wanting to knock his newly forming wings. "Dad will hate me now. I just know he will."

"Shh," I told him soothingly. "He won't hate you, I promise."

"How do you know?" Warren shouted at me, pulling away. His eyes were dark and angry, and I didn't like the expression on his face one bit. He looked ugly as he frowned.

"Parents are supposed to love us no matter what. And friends are too. I don't care that they're growing. It doesn't make you any less of a friend. I'm just worried about you because it hurts you, and when you hurt, I do." I couldn't help but cry too. My best friend had just shouted at me for the first time since we met. Why wouldn't his dad love him? Mr. Worthington seemed like a nice man. Okay, so he had a temper sometimes and would shout at Warren, but he'd take us out, let us have fun together. He really seemed to love Warren.

XxxxxxxX

Days passed by after that and I heard nothing from Warren, until one morning Mom called me out of bed. I'd been allowed to stay home from school after being awake all night with stomach ache. My stomach still felt unsure of itself as I rushed out of my room and went downstairs, passing my dog, Beauty, on the way. She was a black Labrador and after watching the film 'Black Beauty' when we had her as a puppy, that was what I wanted to name her.

"Warren's on the phone for you," Mom told me, still wearing her uniform from work the night earlier. Dad had left early that morning. Sometimes he'd wake me up around six in the morning and I'd hear him start the car outside and reverse down the drive.

Warren was on the phone? I thought he was in school.

"Hello?" I asked as I took the phone from Mom.

"Are you okay? Your mom told me you'd been ill last night," he asked.

"Yeah, I'm alright," I replied, wiping my sweaty hand down my pyjamas. "More important though, how are you?" I'd been really worried about Warren the last few days since I last saw him. "And how come you're phoning me? I thought you were in school?" I added quickly before he had time to answer.

"Yeah, I am, but I needed to speak to you so I used a pay phone across the street."

"You better watch it you don't get caught," I said to him. You could get expelled for skipping classes and stuff in school and I really didn't want Warren getting into trouble all through me. Chances were if his parents found out we wouldn't see each other again.

"I'm thinking of cutting them off!" he said suddenly and quickly. Had I just heard him correctly? Cut them off? My head seemed to pound suddenly and I couldn't help but feel sick.

"You can't do THAT!" I almost shouted. "Come on."

"Hannah, I can't keep them. They're growing really fast and my parents are gonna find out soon. I've got to do something and fast!"

"But cutting them off-"

Warren snapped at me again for the second time in the last week. "Then what do you suggest I do? I heard my dad going on about mutants again last night and he said that he thinks they're horrible people. He'll hate me! I need you to help me do this."

"I can't. Please don't ask me," I said, almost bursting into tears. How on Earth could he ask me to hack his wings off? It was just disgusting.

"You're my friend, Han, you told me you'd be there and I need you now," he argued. I knew he'd make me go on a guilt trip, black mailing me. If I could have somehow got to his school, then I'd have gone in that moment, just to sit with him. "You're the only one I trust with this."

"Warren, I can't. I don't want to hurt you…" I sobbed down the phone. Thankfully Mom had gone upstairs to do some housework, so she couldn't hear our heated conversation.

"This will be practice for you. You want to be a veterinarian, well do this for me," he replied evilly. I'd honestly never seen Warren this depressed or depressing. Half of what he said was just so unlike him.

"Like I'm going to go around cutting the wings off birds. Be reasonable and stop having a go at me. If this was me who had wings, you'd feel the same way. You wouldn't want to hurt me, would you?" I asked challengingly.

"I suppose not…" he trailed off gloomily.

"Well then."

"If you won't do this, I'll do it myself-" and suddenly the phone went dead. I felt the tears fall down my cheeks at the sudden cut off of his voice, the voice of my best friend, one of the very few I had. He was asking me to do something which I just couldn't do. An eleven year old cutting off part of her best friend? It was something you'd never hear of, never conceive of.

In bed that afternoon, I lay awake drinking a glass of apple juice which Mom had brought up to me before going to bed herself. She was always so tired when I saw her, but she'd keep smiling and always managed to make up my lunchbox each morning before I went to school. Thankfully, my stomach felt much better now and the rumbling had stopped soon after I ate two rounds of toast.

Next to my mom and dad, Warren was one of the people I loved the most. I had a photograph of us together when we went on holiday earlier in the year, next to my pots of pens on my desk. Sometimes I loved to just sit and look at it, reminding myself that I did have friends who cared about me. At school, in my lessons, I'd write little 'Warren and Hannah Friends Forever' notes in the back of my book, giggling to myself as I did so. What was so funny about it was I knew he did it too. He'd showed me his school books and had even wrote it on his bag in black marker.

What we had was special and by not helping him, I knew that would break us apart. Warren always teased me, saying things like, 'If you don't do this, you're not my friend.' I never believed him, of course. But now, I wasn't too sure. His voice had sounded too convincing on the phone for my liking and I dreaded one day not being his friend anymore.


	3. Chapter III

A/N: I've tried to make the narrative in this a little more child like to fit in with Warren's tender age of 12. 

_Chapter III_

Warren's POV

I stood in front of the large bathroom mirror, staring intently at the things which were growing out of my back. I knew they were wings, but to me, they were destroying everything. A secret. That's what they'd been for the last six weeks…a dirty secret. I was terrified that my parents would find out about them. My whole body was shaking terribly and sweat was beginning to form under my blonde curls.

In my hand was a knife which I held tightly. My knuckles turned white, the bones feeling as though they'd break through my tender skin. Hannah was the last person I thought about as I started cutting. She was the only one who'd ever understand me. Oh my God! The pain was killing me. All I could do was bite on my lip to stop myself shouting out. I couldn't bear to look in the mirror, watching the skin being cut slowly and the drips of blood beginning to stain the clean floor which Mom had only mopped that morning. Tears continued to drip down my face as I sobbed to myself, cutting away the bits of wings.

Each second seemed like forever, but the pain seemed to numb the more I cut. It was no longer hot rods of burning pain, but now a deep, intense aching….thumping and throbbing. Sweat was dripping down my forehead and onto my face which I'd brush away every now and again with my free hand. My arm began to ache now as I held it over my shoulder, scraping away any loose pieces. Small, baby feathers were scattered around my feet.

My reflection in the mirror didn't seem like me anymore. It was if I'd changed into something else, someone else. I knew I was changing into something and no one could find out. Only Hannah knew and that was how I intended to keep it. She knew everything about me, all my secrets, everything. This was one secret she wouldn't be left out on.

I could feel my heart racing, making me feel sick. It was nearly over. No more hiding. But suddenly, a stern knock came to the bathroom door, swiftly followed by Dad's voice of authority.

"I'll be right out," I said, hearing my voice grow quiet.

He called again. "You've been in there for over an hour," he called through. An hour? It seemed like eternity that I'd been trapped in there. Everything became a blur and even the pain seemed to die down. I dropped the knife; my hands turned to jelly as I fled around the bathroom, shoving everything back in the right place. Then I heard him trying the door, calling again, forcing the door.

I begged him for another second, but in one quick flash, the door was open and there he stood.

_Dad, why couldn't you just leave me? Let me have another second like I asked. _

Before I knew it, I broke into tears as he scowled at me and all I could do was cover my face in sheer desperation with my hands. Why did I have to feel so hopeless? I truly hated everything. The pain was starting up again and I could feel small trickles of blood dripping down my back.

"Not you," he said, taking a step backwards. Not me? He didn't love me now. I knew he didn't. Hannah told me he would, but he didn't.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled pitifully, still weeping both in pain and sadness. Why couldn't he accept me as I was? I was his son!

xxxxx

Mom and Dad wouldn't look at me the same from then on. Even as I lay in a hospital bed, surrounded by Dad's employees, he wouldn't look in my eyes. Typical Dad; I'd got my own room in the hospital and Dad's staff from various departments had rushed to come and see me. He was afraid of everyone else seeing me and knowing what I was.

"Mom, can I see Hannah?" I asked, turning over, feeling the large pads press into my back which covered my wounds.

"Not now, honey," Mom replied. She was facing the large windows next to the bed, watching something. It had turned so grey again. And now I began to regret cutting the wings away. Maybe I could have run outside and hit the skies, flying high. Mom's face was so un nerving.

"You hate me don't you? You and Dad," I said, sitting up in the bed. I glanced around, watching people in white coats walk back and forth past the door of the room I was in.

"Of course we don't hate you, honey," Mom said, but her voice didn't sound convincing. It was low and absent as though she had things on her mind. I just lay back and sighed, allowing the doctors to take yet another sample of blood.

Dad was starting to argue with an older doctor, who actually looked a lot like my science teacher at school. "I am not having my son become one of those…_. People. _I'll find a way to cure him of this," I heard Dad say loudly.

"Cure me of what?" I asked, craning over the edge of the bed, trying not to pull too hard on the tubes coming out the back of my hand. "I want to see Hannah!" I shouted, trying hard to get someone's attention.

"Warren! Be quiet!" Dad shouted. He was sure looking stressed now. He looked even more stressed than me, and I was the one sitting here in a strange hospital bed. All I wanted was Hannah. She was the only one who cared enough about me to understand how I felt. Mom and Dad didn't seem to care enough about me. Mom wouldn't even look at me and all Dad did was yell.

I had more blood tests, scans, x-rays, you name it. But all through that time, I stayed still and just thought of Hannah. As I lay on a bed which slowly rose up and travelled into a small scanning machine, I looked over at Mom. "Please, I want to see Hannah," I begged for the thousandth time that day. But she didn't even answer; she just pushed her glasses further up her nose, folded her arms and turned away. It was just too much for me. Fat tears dripped down my face as I watched strange blue and red lights flicker on and off, scanning me from head to foot. I couldn't see Hannah, I was cold, in pain and just generally wanted to break down, but I couldn't. Strange whirring noises started up which scared me all the more, making me jump. A dull throb had started up again in my back despite the painkillers I'd be given. Nothing seemed to be going right at all that day. I doubted very much that I'd see Hannah.

I sat with Mom and Dad in an overly white room later on that day. My eyes were stinging with all the bright lights, and all I wanted to do was sleep. I'd had enough for the day and just wanted to go to sleep.

"Well, Mr. Worthington," the doctor said, still writing notes on my new files. "We've gone over your son's test results a few times now, quite thoroughly, and I must say, they are quite astonishing. We've been studying mutants now for nearly fifteen years, and I can't say I've ever come across anyone quite as…ah, fascinating as your son here."

_Why can't you just talk to me? I'm sat right here? _

I sighed, already disliking this guy. He was treating me like some kind of guinea pig. _Oh yes, these results are quite astonishing._ So what? I might have something weird growing of me, but I'm still a kid.

"Reviewing Warren's x-rays and scans, we've found that he has a hollow bone structure and his lungs are extremely advanced," the doctor said, smiling at my Dad and turning a little on his seat. "Another thing that we found, which is highly unusual, is that your son has no body fat whatsoever. Even though it doesn't look visible, it's his muscles that make up most of his body mass. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that his body has altered itself to be like a bird's."

"A bird?" Mom spat angrily. "I don't believe any of this!" she snapped again and got up quickly, rushing out of the room.

"Please excuse my wife," Dad said, blushing slightly.

"That is quite alright. I'm sure this is a huge shock to the two of you," the doctor replied.

"And my son, of course," Dad corrected. "This isn't just about me and Katherine."

All eyes were then on me. I sank back in my chair, feeling heat burn in my cheeks as I blushed. "Maybe we should ask Warren how he feels about all this," the doctor suggested. I just swallowed hard, gripping the arms of the seat tightly.

"I want to see Hannah," I said again. I didn't really care how I felt about my 'strange body structure'. All I wanted was to see Hannah. "She knew about this too. I told her," I said, hanging my head. Why should I be embarrassed about that? My best friend knew my deepest secret, so what? "I asked her to help me cut them off, but she wouldn't. I didn't want to hide this from her."

"But why did you hide it from me and your mother?" Dad asked sternly. "Hannah isn't the only person in the world." I could tell that Dad was annoyed now. He just sighed and looked away.

"She's my best friend," I mumbled.

xxxxx

I lay in bed that night, still in hospital and watched the moon outside in the sky. Maybe I should have kept my wings. I could have gone flying like Superman, helped people and defeated the bad guys. Be a real comic book hero. But how I could live like that? I'd have to cover myself up for school and make sure no one saw my wings. I just couldn't hide them anymore. Before I cut them off, they'd become too big to hide.

The blue hospital gown I wore itched like hell and the food I'd eaten for dinner had been disgusting. I just wanted to go home. I wondered if Hannah knew about me being in hospital. Probably not. I don't think that Dad wanted her to know. He seemed pretty pissed about me telling her and no one else.

Everything was dark and since waking up, I'd somehow got a boost of energy. I flipped my legs over the side of the bed and slid out, my bare feet growing cold as they hit the tiled floor. Mom had left my backpack on the seat next to her as she slept. Oh yeah! I just realised in that moment that Mom was in the room too. Sneaking past her wasn't going to be easy, but I was determined to manage it.

I crept past her, tip toeing and picked up my backpack, dragging it with me out of the door and out into the corridor. There were still a couple of lights on, lighting my way down to the toilets.

In a small cubicle, I got myself dressed into the clothes Mom had packed and tossed the gown away, hoping I'd never see one again in my life. Then I slung the backpack onto my back, wincing a little as it caught the pads on my shoulder blades, but at least it didn't hurt too much. Then I began my journey, off to find my friend.

Thankfully, in my bag, Mom had put my New York Yankees baseball hat which I pulled on, pressing my hair down tightly. I acted cool, making sure I dodged any nurses who were doing their late night rounds of the wards. There didn't seem to be many people about which was a huge blessing.

I walked past many occupied rooms and glanced through the windows, feeling lucky that I was at least alive. I'd put myself in the hospital. Most of these people had diseases and didn't look as though they'd last very long.

It was a miracle how I walked out of that hospital so quickly without anyone noticing me. At least my hat kept my face hidden from view. But I definitely think my height gave me away. I was only just five foot. I suppose midgets can go to hospital, can't they?

Even at night, New York never slept. Groups of people still walked the streets and yellow cabs lined the road, taking people wherever they wished to go. I didn't even have money for a cab. This would have to be purely by foot.

I kept viewing street signs, my head constantly turning in every direction to see if I recognised the place. I knew for a fact that the school was only about four blocks from the hospital and Hannah walked to school each morning. My school was on the other side of town. At least I was nearer to Hannah than I first thought.


End file.
